


life behind the camera

by emmaofmisthaven



Series: Kavinsquad verse [3]
Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, youtubers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-01 23:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: The most important parts of their lives are not caught on camera.(The Kavinsquad, between vlogs.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped counting the number of times people have asked more about the LJ/John drama, LJ/John collabs, any kind of LJ/John content. 
> 
> So. 
> 
> Here. 
> 
> Have some Peter/John friendship instead lmao

Peter and John have been friends since basically forever. Even before ‘internet celebrity’ was a thing, let alone a viable career. The teacher sat them together on the first day of 1st grade, when life was nothing more than Nowhere, Oregon, and the rest, as they said, was history. They were inseparable from day one, always playing together at recess and begging their parents to go to the park at the same time. John still has his stutter then, too shy to socialise with any other kid in their group. Which worked out for them, in the end -- John helped grounding Peter a lot when he was becoming too effervescent, and Peter worked on getting John out of his bubble.

And the funny thing is, people always thought most of their bad ideas came from Peter. They were so dead-on wrong. John was the fucking worst (or best, according to Peter) at bad idea and at putting them in impossible situations. That’s how Peter got his scar to the chin, jumping from one tree to another and failing miserably, falling head first on a rock. That’s also how the videos started, when John got a little camera for his birthday and they started filming their adventures together.

The local hospital knew them on a first-name-only basis, at some point.

So, really, it didn’t really come as a surprise that LA was John’s idea too, once the videos took off and Peter started making money out of it. They would rent a little flat together, be where everyone is, and opportunities would come flooding. He hadn’t been wrong, and here they are years later, their sorry studio a vague souvenir and their video-making fun now a real business.

And Peter loves everyone in the group, he really does. Chris’s special brand of dry humour cracks him up. Lucas is just the fucking best. Gabe has the same humour and fucked-up ideas Peter has. But John, John will always be his best friend. The first one he came out to when he was thirteen and realised boys was just as hot as girls. The one he woke up in the middle of the night, yelling, when he passed one million subscribers. The only one who can still make him giggle like a child with just one look. His best friend, his brother.

So seeing John with Lara Jean shouldn’t hurt like a motherfucker.

But damn, it does.

And thing is, Peter knows on an intellectual level that he’s being ridiculous. LJ has done collabs with everyone in the house so far, playing with Chris live and being part of Lucas’s vlog and helping Gabe with a few skits. It’s never made sense for anyone to be in John’s videos, seeing as he does daily news updates that don’t require anyone but himself in front of the camera.

So the possibility of a LJ/John collab was never on Peter’s mind. Except, it’s a thing that’s going to happen now, and he doesn’t even understand why he’s so upset about it. No, upset isn’t the word to describe the churning feeling in his stomach, the cold dread in his limbs, the fear clouding his brain.

Jealousy.

He’s fucking jealous of John, which is a first. Because he’s always known John was popular with girls and boys alike. Peter has eyes, after all, and John is one fucking attractive dude. But it never was a problem before, because Peter was dating Gen and John never ready had a serious relationship. And it shouldn’t be a problem now, because LJ isn’t even his to claim and she’s allowed to be attracted to other guys if that’s her thing.

Except, well. The relationship might be fake, but his feelings for her aren’t. And even the knowledge that John never, ever, not in a thousand years, would steal a girl from him doesn’t really help with Peter’s jealousy or his fear of losing LJ once and for all. Which, again, ridiculous. She’s not his to lose. And it makes it all worse.

No. What makes it worse is John knocking at his door that same evening. LJ has gone home and the house is quiet -- all the dudes editing peacefully while Chris’s rock music echoes from her room where she’s live on Twitch -- and it makes it the perfect moment to have a heart-to-heart with his best friend.

John sits on Peter’s bed, and it feels like high school all over again, talking about life while doing their homework and complaining about Mrs Fenman’s maths exam coming up. Except life hasn’t been high school drama in a very long while.

“I need to tell you something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad first,” is how John decides to introduce the problem.

Which. Great. Not helping like, at all.

Peter can only nod around the knot in his throat as he closes his laptop and puts it on the floor next to his bed. Editing can wait, this is more important.

“I kissed Lara Jean.”

“You’re right, I want to punch you in the teeth.”

John sighs, but with a smile too, as he moves to lie down next to Peter. They used to do that too in high school, to stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars they’d stuck to the ceiling as kids and never bothered to get rid off. Peter turns his head to look at his friend, trying to make sense of his feelings. Upset and jealous again. Defeated. Stupid to think someone like LJ could come to love someone like him.

“At Vidcon, last year,” John explains. “One of those parties, can’t even remember which one, but Chris dragged her there. We flirted and we kissed, and that what the end of it. It didn’t mean anything. Still doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Peter mumbles.

“Yes, it does,” John echoes his thoughts, fucking mind-reader that he is. “If it didn’t, you wouldn’t be sulking in a corner.”

Peter doesn’t say anything. Instead, he turns his head to look at the ceiling again -- this one perfectly white and bare of any childish decorations. It’s hard, putting his feelings into coherent sentences. That’s how he ended up dating Gen way past their expiration date, how he barely managed to understand she was bad for him until it was too late. Even now, even with his heart mended back, he still doesn’t understand what went wrong and when, doesn’t get how he let it happen for so long without doing a thing about it.

“And I get it, Pete, I really do,” John goes on. “With your father and with Gen, all that stuff. You don’t want to lose LJ, I get that. But you can’t believe for one second I would do that to you?”

“No, of course no. You’re the best person I know.” He can see John smile in his peripheral vision, a little sad and a little relieved. It makes him smile too, although it feels forced on his lips. “I just… I don’t know, man. I can’t think straight when I’m around her.”

John snickers, just a little. “You haven’t thought straight since you were thirteen, Peter Pan.”

Peter laughs too, and kicks his chin. Which, obviously, dissolves into madness in a matter of seconds, the both of them laughing as they wrestle around on his bed until John lets out a high-pitched yelp when he almost falls down. Peter catches him at the right time and pulls him back on the mattress, the two of them breathing heavily between two bouts of laughter.

He’s still trying to even his breathing when John goes on. “I won’t make videos with her if you don’t want me to.”

And the worst part is that he means it. Just one word from Peter and John would drop it, no questions asked. He wouldn’t even be upset about it, or ressent Peter for it. Just one word, and he would be the most loyal of friends. Which wouldn’t be fair on him, obviously. John barely ever gets to properly collab with people outside of their squad, since his channel’s content is so different and unique. He has every right to have some fun in front of someone else’s camera too, and LJ is the best at collabs, at putting people at ease even when they’re out of their comfort zone.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just being a moron about it.”

John grins, but thankfully doesn’t make the savage comment that is on the tip of his tongue. That’s John for you, kinder than he has any right to be. Well. John decides to be savage in a whole different way, though.

“So now that we’ve established that,” he starts, slowly, deliberately, “can you finally cut the crap and explain what’s going on? Cause you’re not fooling me with your dating thing.”

Peter sighs a low “Fuck you” that makes John snicker once more, but then the words are pouring out of his mouth anyway. Maybe he needed this, more than he realised.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings, or something like that...

He doesn’t know how long they stay in the hot tub, loses track of time when Lara Jean’s mouth is on his. Might be minutes or hours, not that it matters much when he can wrap his arms around her and pull her in his lap, taste her mouth, thread his fingers through her hair. They kiss and giggle and kiss some more, whispering sweet nothings when their mouth aren’t otherwise busy. After weeks of pinning and frustration, it feels like heaven. 

And then Lara Jean starts shivering, cold winter wind against her wet skin, until her teeth are shattering. She pulls him closer, as if it would help. 

“Let’s go back inside,” he whispers to her. 

She whines a little when he lets go of her and he knows that sound will follow him through his dreams for weeks to come. But he doesn’t let himself think about it too much as he jumps out of the hot tub to grab big fluffy towels inside and comes back jogging. He wraps her in one of the towels, a perfect little LJ burrito that he kisses on the nose until she giggles. 

Then he’s pulling her inside, one arm around her shoulders to keep her close and share body heat at the same time. 

They must have been in the hot tub for longer than he thought at first, because the entire cabin is silent, fire dying slowly in the fireplace and mugs of hot cocoa discarded on a table. 

Peter leads LJ to his bedroom, but she tenses a little when they stop at the door, her eyes widening as she avoids his gaze. 

“Just sleeping,” he reassures her. “Or cuddling. Whatever.”

“Taking it slow,” she confirms. 

He doesn’t mind. He’s waited weeks for this moment. He will enjoy whatever LJ is ready to offer, glad and grateful that his feelings are finally returned, happy for his love not to be unrequited anymore. He could wait months for more than that, and be perfectly fine with it. 

What he isn’t fine with is John’s shit-eating grin when he opens the door. “I’ll find somewhere else to sleep,” he simply comments as he stands up from one of the two beds in the room. He doesn’t say the  _ I told you so _ , but the look he offers Peter as he leaves the room is pretty telling on his own. 

Even LJ, queen of being clueless, notices. “He knew?”

“About the contract or about my feelings? Because yes to both.”

Her face does that scrunchie cute thing he loves so much, and it’s hard not to lean down and kiss her from how adorable she is. Until he remembers he doesn’t have to stop himself anymore, the no-kissing rule definitely is off the table, and so he does just that. Kiss her. And again, and once more, until she giggles against his lips and he swallows the sound. It’s already his new favourite activity. Fuck Youtube, that’s what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“I may have told Lucas everything tonight,” she confesses once they stop for breath. She’s still pressing her forehead against his though, him leaning down and her on her tiptoes. Fucking best.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I mean…”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for the both of them to understand what he means -- Chris and Gabe will need to be told too, at some point. It’s a small miracle they went on with the contract for so long and only John guessed that something was off. Perhaps because they were so good at pretending, until they were not pretending at all.

The thought makes his heart race.

“Later,” she agrees with a small nod.

Later, when they will not be busy kissing and moving to the bed, and cuddling and kissing again. It’s well into the night when Peter takes his iPad out to watch The Golden Girls, and that’s how LJ falls asleep -- in his arms, completely at peace.

 

...

 

“I’m too old for this,” Lucas groans as he sits in one of the couches. 

Chris follows suite, sitting by his side before she leans forward to grab Veronica’s hand and pulls her on her lap. Her girlfriend does as she’s told, not without a roll of the eyes. “You’re only twenty-six,” the gamer girl points out. 

“It’s ancient in Youtuber years,” John laughs from his spot in the only armchair. Sitting casually, one ankle on a knee, he looks like the king of the internet. Which he might be, What with his newly-celebrated ten million subscribers. 

Peter shares another couch with LJ, as he sits with his back to the armrest with her between his legs, her back to his torso. She’s wrapped in a powder blue sweater from Veronica’s new merch line, her recently-cut hair brushing against his cheek every time she moves her head. Her fingers laced with his on her stomach, and he’s the happiest of men, exhaustion from Vidcon be damned.

It’s been a hell of a two months, what with their tour followed by the convention, but it’s the good kind of tired, the one that settles deep in your bones and leads to long and well-deserved hours of sleep. Soon it will all over and they will go back to LA, to the house, to their routine of vlogs and editing. But, for now, Peter enjoys the life on the road with his friends, the closest thing he’ll ever get to being a rock star.

Well. Maybe it would be one step closer to being a rock star if they were actually partying. But, as it is, Lucas isn’t entirely wrong. The craziness of the past few weeks is finally catching up with all of them and, where they would party like there’s no tomorrow any other year, this year they are just chilling in their penthouse suite with their friends. Veronica, of course, now officially member of the Kavinsquad, and Simon and Bram, Dimple. A viewer’s wet dream, yet all they’re doing is chill and eat nachos.

“I met an eight-year old fan today,” Simon agrees. “SimonSays shirt and hoodie and baseball cap and everything. Eight! Young enough to be my daughter!”

Bram puts his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh, a faux serious expression on his face. “Babe, I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Everyone bursts into laughter at Simon’s dramatic face, even more so when he throws a tortilla chip at Bram, who catches it in his mouth. It’s all those little things that have Peter remember that enjoying yourself with your friends doesn’t have to always involve loud music, tons of alcohol and fuzzy memories. It can be just as simple as good moments with Hozier playing in the background.

LJ is getting sleepy in his arms, snuggling a little more into his neck, so he shakes her slightly to keep her awake. Leaning closer to her ear, he whispers, “Let’s go outside,” to which she nods a little.

She’s all mellow and sleepy as he pulls her up and into his arms, guiding her toward the door. John shares a meaningful look with Peter that does nothing beside set his stomach into knots of anxiety as he leads LJ down the corridor and toward the lifts.

She doesn’t protest until they make their way to the roof terrasse, and then she forgets to protest altogether. The fresh air finishes waking her up properly, and she gasps a little at the view offered to her. The whole city shines in the night, brights colourful lights that paint a gorgeous picture.

She leans against the railway, and Peter steps behind her to hug her, arms wrapped around her waist and chin on her shoulder. That’s the only downside of the past few weeks; they’ve barely managed to get a moment to themselves, away from the others. He’s all but moved into her house at this point, enjoying the intimacy of a place he doesn’t share with his best friends, relishing in having LJ all to himself now that Kitty has switched places with him.

“Can you believe it’s been two years?” she sighs wistfully. 

So much has happened in only two years that sometimes Peter barely even remembers who he was before LJ entered his life. He sure can’t imagine a life without her now, when she’s everything, everywhere – the first face he sees in the morning, the first person he turns to when he has a doubt about a video, his last kiss before falling asleep. 

“It feels like an eternity.” She complains a little under her breath, for the heck of it, so he leans over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.”

She does that thing she always does when he really touches her, that soft ‘oh Pete’ that is just for him but that has also generated thousands of comments on their videos. Lucas even says it’s their main ship tag on tumblr, whatever that means. 

“Not even for fruitcake cookies?” she teases him gently. He doesn’t need to see her face to picture the amused smile on her lips. 

“Not even… I mean, maybe one thing.”

He feels her confusion, even more so when he puts his hands on her hips as to turn her around so she’s now facing him. Her cheeks are red from the cold and the excitement of the day alike, her hair a mess, her eyes dark. She’s so beautiful, and she’s all his. 

“We’ve been off-contract for over a year and a half now but… what if we signed a new one?”

Her face scrunches up, so very obviously confused at his words now, that she barely reacts when he takes a step back and reaches inside his sweater’s pocket. There’s a good ten seconds of nothing between the moment he drops to his knee and the moment LJ reacts, the longest seconds of his life. Just stunned silence, one hand against her mouth as she stares at him with the wildest, most surprised eyes ever.

Eyes that are quickly filled with tears then, when he opens the velvet box in his hands. John and he took hours picking it, something pretty yet small and discreet, something shiny but not too in-your-face. It looks perfectly her, like it was made with Lara Jean Covey in mind and nobody else.

“Lara Jean, babe… Remember last summer, when Kitty and your grandma were trying to teach me some Korean, and they explained the concept on ‘jeong’ to me? To be honest, I’m still not sure I completely understand…” She lets out a wet giggle than makes him smile in return, a huff of breath through the nose before he goes on, “but I think what we have is as close to ‘jeong’ as it gets. You’re my person, and you’ll always be my person. And I know how scared you must be right now. Truth is I’m terrified. But I want you to know you’ll never lose me. Ever. Because I love you, and I will always love you, and I want to be by your side for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you say?”

She’s full on crying now, big tears rolling down her cheeks, so Peter stands back up to cup her face and hold her close. Her body is shivering with her sobs, but she’s laughing too, and for a moment there he’s afraid he lost her for real.

“You want to marry me?” she asks in between two hiccups.

She’s so fucking adorable, he can’t help but pull her into a hug and kiss the side of her face. “Yeah, even got a ring and stuff.”

Hysterical sobs turn to hysterical giggles right there, and he can’t help but laugh too. And hold her tighter. And kiss the side of her head again.

He’s the one to lose it when she says, “There’s no camera.”

“No, baby girl. Just us.”

“T’would have gotten so many views.”

He barks a laugh at the unexpected statement, at her mindset and how much she’s changed through those two years together. She used to frown at the blatant clickbait in his videos, and now she thinks about it during one of the most important moments of their life. Only Lara Jean…

“I don’t care about the views. I just care about you.”

She’s laugh-crying again, wet nose pressed to his collarbone when she whispers a small “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, Peter. Of course. Yes!”

He might be laugh-crying too.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, Peter’s mother,” is how Lara Jean introduces the subject as she sits on John Ambrose’s couch. 

He’s done filming for today’s video, laptop propped up in front of him and slowly importing the video he will then start to edit. She caught him at a good time – not yet too busy – but still he arches a surprised eyebrow at her. 

“Rachel Kavinsky,” he spells out slowly, deliberately. “Doesn’t like me much, to be honest.”

“What, you? No! You’re like, the poster boy for parents to like.”

He grins and she’s reminded of how handsome he is, in such a different way. Peter is Hollywood-handsome, the kind you find in magazines and movies and everywhere. John is more old-school, like he tumbled out of a black and white movie and decided to just salary living in modern times. Not for the first time, LJ wonders why he’s not dating anyone. It would be so easy for him to find someone to fall in love in love with him. 

“Right,” he laughs. “She’s the exception though.” LJ doesn’t reply anything, but her confusion must show in the puzzled look on her face, because John sighs a little. His shoulders drop, slouching a bit as he looks for his words. “Peter ever told you what we were doing before moving to LA?”

She shakes her head. She knows they moved here when they were 19, and Chris followed them a few months later when Peter convinced her to join the squad. Greg was already living in LA when they met him, and Lucas showed up about a year later. Then came along Lara Jean, a few years down the road. But she never questioned what happened before, or how it all led them where they are, because she already knows. Passion, hard work, and their fair share of luck. She’s been through it too.

John sighs as he leans further into his seat. “Of course, he wouldn’t,” he says with a shake of the head, hand rubbing against his face. “We were both in college together, same room and everything. I was valedictorian so I got a scholarship for my grades; Peter got in with a scholarship for the Lacrosse team. That’s when his channel really started to explode too, because we had more time to film and edit and actually create quality content.”

She gets it, she thinks. It’s not something she can relate to herself, because her channel was already doing good enough by the time she left high school, so she only had to find a part-time job in the local bakery to help daddy with the bills. It wasn’t long before she was able to live off her channel, and she only waited until Kitty was done with school too before they moved to LA together. She never got to worry about a degree, or college, or even getting in. 

But Peter did. Peter got it, did a full year of it while still producing content every week for his online audience. “You both dropped out to come to LA,” she guesses and finishes for John. It does make sense.

“That we did. And it was mostly my idea, so of course Rachel blames me for influencing Peter, and keeping him from his brilliant sport career, and all of this. I think it’s easier for her to blame me than to blame Peter, which is fine. We don’t interact nearly enough for it to be a problem, but. Yeah. She doesn’t like me much.”

“That’s stupid,” she comments. Because it really is, in a way. “I don’t know anyone who could force Peter to do something he doesn’t want.”

John’s smile is pleased, if a little shy, before he snorts a laugh and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I do know one person.”

Lara Jean finds herself blushing.

 

…

 

Lara Jean’s history with Oregon stops at one or two visits to Portland during tours, and that’s about it. She’s never been anywhere else, especially not somewhere as remotely lost in the middle of nowhere as Greenpoint. Their plane lands in the little hours of the morning, and then Peter rents a car at the airport, and everything is grey and cold outside, having her adjust the scarf around her neck and missing California’s weather already. She can’t remember her life before being able to wear skirts without tights, a life where cardigan were not just a night option.

They drive for two hours before Greenpoint’s town sign welcomes them. It’s a little town like there are so many in the USA, not unlike the one Lara Jean comes from. Houses built in residential areas, a sad little main street, corner shops everywhere, one lone Walmart at the outskirt of town. Try as she might, she can’t picture Peter and Chris and John growing up here. It’s too quiet, too empty. Like they had to compensate with their loud Youtube personalities to fill the void left by the town, like being loud on camera was overcompensating for the quiet of the place.

Peter drives by his old high school, just to show her. There’s a football stadium he says used to be for lacrosse practice too, and this one building where the cafeteria was, where John and he came up with so many ideas for Vines and videos. Lara Jean has seen pictures, Peter-as-a-teenager with his too tall body and too skinny shoulders, John with a stupid haircut, clothes that looked ridiculous. She tries to associate those images to everything she sees around her. But there is so little of Peter in those buildings.

His house is different. Better. There are family pictures everywhere, for one, him and Owen at different periods of their lives, from babies to toddlers to young adults. Boy sneakers still lined up by the door. A few sport trophies on display in the living room, and the fridge packed with Peter’s favourite snacks and those bottles of kombucha nobody else drinks.

His bedroom is the best. 

It’s like someone froze time when he was seventeen, its own little millennial bubble. The bed is made, dark blue tartan, but everything else is a rightful mess. An old laptop sits on the desk, next to a mirrorless camera. Posters from overrated movies he’s forced her to watch at least once are on the walls, along with pictures of him and John, him and Owen, and even one of him and Gen that he takes down and throws in the bin. A few books here and there, mostly comics or hard scifi. More trophies than Lara Jean thought possible to win during a high school career. And clothes everywhere, one lone lacrosse stick, soccer and basket balls in the corners.

“This is so you,” she grins as she sits on his bed. It bounces a little.

“How so?” he asks as he drops their overnight bag in a corner and joins her. Kicking his shoes off, he lies down with his back against the wall, pulling at her hand until she lies down against his side.

“All over the place!”

He makes a face and she laughs. Maybe it should be weird, knowing what this bedroom has seen. She’s learnt enough from John and Chris, and sometimes even Peter, to know he only ever dated Gen before he dated her, no one else. This bedroom must have been the witness of many makeout session disguised as homework together, late-night phone calls, date planning. Lara Jean doesn’t want to be weird about it, because it is in the past. Gen’s shadow no longer has the power it once held on them, on her. She doesn’t feel second-best, or second anything. Peter loves her, and it is all that matters.

Still. Still, possessiveness surges through her as she wraps one hand around the collar of his shirt and pulls him toward her. Peter lets out a small noise at the back of his throat but doesn’t complain when she kisses him. Instead, one of his arm circles her waist and, before she knows it, Lara Jean’s back is against the mattress, Peter towering above her. She somehow wonders if this is what it feels like, making out with your high school boyfriend when the parents are not home.

“LJ,” he whispers against her lips, voice already breathless and broken. It’s been months of dating, properly dating, but Lara Jean still loves that rush, the one that comes with the knowledge of the effect she has on him. She hopes it never goes away, how it makes her heart beat faster and her skin warmer to his touch.

His hand sneaks under her skin, fingers splayed against the small of her back and bringing a shiver down her spine. She arches to be closer to him, mouth opening in a wordless gasp when his mouth find the pulsing point on her neck. That is new territory, after months of her being afraid of physical intimacy. She was so scared before, but she can’t remember why when only a touch of his hands or a kiss down her jaw lights her entire body on fire.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he admits with a chuckles as he noses at her collarbone.

She laughs too, and it comes out ragged and breathy. “Really?”

He nods, and lets his teeth graze against her skin.

Downstairs, a door slams.

They both startle

“Peter? Are you home?”

“Fuck.” 

He lets go of her quickly and sits up. She does the same, fixing her top then her dress, carding her fingers through her hair so she can pull it up into a decent ponytail. There is no hiding the disaster that is Peter’s hair though, not when he’s been growing it out a bit and it’s now a mess of curls going in every direction. It’s hard to tame it, or at least make it look like Lara Jean didn’t just spend ten minutes destroying it with her fingers.

There is nothing to be done about their red cheeks, or the bulge in Peter’s pants, either.

“Hey, mom!” he calls back loudly. “Down in a second!”

He doesn’t meet Lara Jean’s eyes, but the way he tightens his lips is very telling; he’s trying hard not to laugh at the situation. So Lara Jean slaps his shoulder, faking affront and not-so-faking embarrassment, which truly makes him laugh. He’s already up, checking his reflexion in the mirror on his wardrobe, when Lara Jean tries to fix her tights and to ignore the warmth pooling deep in her stomach. That will have to wait.

“Ready?” he asks softly, after another attempt at fixing his hair.

“To meet your mom after a hardcore makeout session? Sure!”

He laughs once more and leans down to kiss her, hard and fast, which does nothing to help her forget how wet she already was from his kisses alone. Not exactly the right mindset for when you are about to meet your boyfriend’s mother, and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of crimson.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry. She loves you already.”

That she does.

Rachel is nothing short of amazing as she coos over how pretty Lara Jean is, or how nice it was of her to bring a fresh batch of macadamia nut and white chocolate cookies, or how excited she is to finally meet one of Peter’s girlfriends. Lara Jean raises a eyebrow his way at that comment, but fills it in her ‘for later’ box. It probably shouldn’t thrill her that much, to know Gen and Mrs Kavinsky didn’t have much of a relationship, but it does. She isn’t even the slightest bit ashamed of how competitive she is, when it comes to being a more important girlfriend than Gen. Probably because she wins every round.

“It’s so sad Owen couldn’t come back for the weekend. I feel like I never get to see the both of you at the same time anymore.”

Peter rolls his eyes behind his mother’s back, but there is nothing short of fondness in the motion, before he grabs a bottle of apple juice in the fridge and pours them all drinks. “You saw us both at Christmas, mom. It was like, five months ago.”

“An eternity,” she comments. Then, turning to Lara Jean, “How do your parent cope with you being so far from them?”

She tenses, just a little, but enough for Peter to notice. He winces visibly. “Mom, I told you LJ’s mom passed away. It’s only her dad now.”

His mother lets out a little ‘oh’ of surprise, but Lara Jean cuts her off before she can even think of offering an empty apology. She is used to those by now, after all. “Actually, our mother wanted us to leave the nest and live our best lives. My older sister went to uni in Scotland, so LA is right next door for my father, in comparison.”

“And you guys facetime all the time. Which we do too, mom, if you remember!”

“Still,” his mother sighs, moving closer to him so she can wrap one arm around his shoulders. She’s almost as tall as Peter is. “You could visit more often.”

He kisses her cheek. “I will, I promise.”

 

…

 

Dinner is a quiet affair of homemade lasagna followed by bowls of ice cream in front of the television. Mrs Kavinsky doesn’t do the embarrassing thing with the family albums, but she does offer her fair share of embarrassing childhood stories that have Lara Jean laughing and Peter blushing.

They both offer to take care of the dishes, and work in comfortable silence side by side, the same way they do after a night in at Lara Jean’s. Everything is so peaceful and quiet, she understands how it makes for a lovely place to raise up children.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he tells her once all the dirty dishes are either in the dishwasher or cleaned and put away. “I told her about your mom but…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” She sits on the kitchen island, and smiles when Peter puts his hands on her knees to pull them apart and stand between her legs. He smiles too, and they stay like this for a while, forehead against forehead, silent and loving. Which of course means Lara Jean has to ruin it. “You never told me what happened with your dad.”

Peter sucks in a breath. “They got a divorce when I was six. Owen was just a baby back then. As far as I know, he’s got a brand new family now. It’s like, whatever.”

Her fingers find his jaw, nails scratching against his late-evening shadow. He closes his eyes and leans against her touch. “We don’t have to talk about it, but it’s not whatever.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing her hips a little too possessively. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“It’s always worth a repeat.”

**Author's Note:**

> And as always, if you liked what you read, ring that kudos bell and comment below! And don't forget to smash the subscribe button (to my profile, not just the fic) so you get notified every time I update!


End file.
